


Here I am (Batson and the Bat Sons)

by SmolSpideyBoi



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Shazam! | Captain Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Other, billy gets a family, dick is turning into bruce, oh look another blue eyed black haired orphan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26995825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmolSpideyBoi/pseuds/SmolSpideyBoi
Summary: What begins as a chance encounter leads to something more.In other words, Billy gets a family that he never knew he could've had.
Relationships: Billy Batson & Alfred Pennyworth, Billy Batson & Bruce Wayne, Billy Batson & Damian Wayne, Billy Batson & Dick Grayson, Billy Batson & Jason Todd, Billy Batson & Tim Drake
Comments: 46
Kudos: 324





	1. First Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Human beans, I adopted this work from the lovely itsybitsybatsyspider, the newest chapter shouldn't take to long to be posted as long as my school work doesn't become too much.

To anyone else, it was a normal day. The sky glittered it’s normal blue, the sun shined as brightly as it always did during the spring, cherry blossoms began to slowly bloom in the swift crispy wind, and daffodils started to poke their heads out of the ground and say hello to the world around them. People walked down the street, passing the ordinary shops and inhaled the warm smell of cinnamon buns from the local bakery and couples sat at the malt shops sharing a milkshake while men in coats went on their way to work.

Yes, it was a normal, quiet day in this small city.

That is, it would be if it wasn’t for the ruckus caused by teenage boys chasing after a small child.

Billy Batson ran through the alleyways and sidewalks of Fawcett City, desperately trying to lose the teens that were nipping at his heels. His breath came out short and ragged, he wasn’t used to running so much when he had so little food in his stomach. But no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t seem to shake them.

Wherever he turned, there they were, and they were way too close for him to turn into his magical alter ego, so that was out of the question and none of his usual tricks seemed to work on them. It was infuriating for the boy.

And to put it simply, it all started when Billy was at the wrong place at the wrong time and in the wrong mood. He had been up all night thanks to numerous robberies all happening at the same time, criminals were getting smarter, a League meeting, and an unplanned monitor duty shift. Not to mention that the following morning he found out that there was no more food in his cupboards and someone had stolen his only blanket while he was out.

He needed to find a suitable lock.

Then when he was walking down the street, trying to find an odd job to earn money for another blanket, he came across a group of teenage boys, trying to mug a couple for drug money and Billy had enough. He snapped.

He yelled at them. And of course, they didn’t take it well.

So here Billy was, running for his life and regretting every decision he ever made in his life.

His feet pounded on the ground, struggling to push harder when he suddenly rounded a corner and slipped on a puddle. His legs swept from underneath him and he fell hard, landing on his shoulder in a position that Billy was sure couldn’t have been good for him. He groaned in pain on the cold pavement long enough for the bullies to catch up. When they saw him, they smirked.

“Well, rat, looks like you couldn’t keep running.” The leader suddenly kicked him in the stomach, surprising the raven.

Billy clutched his ribs and coughed, desperately trying to catch his breath again as the teen leaned over him and continued to grin. The boy could practically smell the drugs rolling off of him.

“This is for the money you cost us,” he said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pocket knife.

Billy knew that this wasn’t going to end well. If anything this was probably going to add a new edition to the growing collection of scars that dotted his skin. Still gripping his stomach, the boy shut his eyes and waited for the inevitable pain to come.

And it probably would’ve come too. If it wasn’t for a voice.

“You know, I don’t approve of bullies.”

Billy cracked an eye open. And saw that the teens were glaring at a newcomer who had appeared at the mouth of the alley. Of course, Billy couldn’t see who it was exactly, but at this point, he was glad for any kind of help he could get.

“In fact, they rather get on my nerves.” the voice, male, said again.

“Oh, fuck off asshole, this doesn’t concern you!” the leader shouted as he pointed the small knife at the man. Billy lifted his head a little, to try and see who he was talking to, but the small crunch hurt his stomach too much and he put his head back down on the pavement with a groan.

“Hey! Don’t use that language around kids!”

The bullies began to leave Billy alone and walked towards the man who dared to defy them. There were about five boys in total and Billy guessed that the man wouldn’t be able to do much to them. And it seemed like all of them had small weapons much like their leader.

“I’ll give you one last chance to walk the hell away and leave us alone...Bitch.”

Billy held his breath as he waited for the man’s answer. The air was so tense with apprehension and anxiety, you could practically cut it with a dull knife.

“Nah.” the man replied, which was soon followed by the sound of a punch and the crumple of a body hitting the ground. Billy cringed, thinking that the man was the one to be struck down. But he was pleasantly surprised when he heard his chirpy voice speak up again.

“Now...who’s next?”

It was silent for a moment before a yell pierced the air. Billy listened as a fight broke out between his savior and the bullies, not sure about who was winning and who was losing. The fight didn’t last long, which didn’t surprise the boy, it was four against one there’s no way that the man alone was able to beat all of them.

So the boy closed his bluebell eyes, preparing himself and waiting for his tormentors to come back and begin beating on him again. He clenched his eyes even harder when he heard slow footsteps walk towards him.

‘Get ready’ he thought to himself. ‘You can do this. You can deal with the pain. You’ve done it before you can do it again.’ the footsteps stopped and he sensed someone kneeling next to him. ‘Be brave Batson!’

“Hey, kid.” the chirpy voice said as a hand shook his uninjured shoulder. Billy’s eyebrows drew together.

‘What?’ he thought.

He opened his eyes and saw, much to both delight and confusion, that a young adult was standing over him. No older than 24, with windswept charcoal hair and kind blue eyes that looked at him in concern. He wore a simple blue button-down, grey jacket, and dark pants. This was the guy that had saved him from the junkies.

“You alright?” he asked. Billy dumbly nodded, still unsure of how this one dude could have stopped five bullies with weapons. It was unreal.

Nonetheless, the man smiled. “Good. How about we get you out of here?” He gripped Billy’s hand, the one not attached to his injured shoulder, and hoisted him up off of the slick ground onto his feet.

“Right. There we go.” he trilled. Billy noticed quickly how much he sounded like a bird. It wasn’t like it was intentional, it was just there, in the underlying of his voice. It reminded the Champion much of a nightingale, or a chickadee, or a… robin.

“Hey, you alright? You don’t have a concussion do you?” the man asked again. Billy shook his head, answering the man’s question and also shaking the cotton clouds from his mind. It was fuzzy for some reason. Maybe it was the pain?

“Well, that’s good. How about anything else? I saw them kick you but I don’t know if you have any cracked ribs.”

“I don’t.” Billy finally said. The man’s eyebrows raised in surprise, and a small smile graced his lips.

“So, you  _ can  _ talk.”

The boy shrugged, and then hissed at the sudden pain that flared in his shoulder, gripping his arm. The man immediately lost his smile.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, refraining from touching Billy, which he was thankful for since he didn’t exactly want to be touched right then and there. He nodded.

The man looked around, registering the alleyway they were in and how they were surrounded by a bunch of unconscious junkies. He turned back to Billy and jerked his head to the entrance of the alley.

“Come on, let’s get out of here and get that looked at. I doubt your pals are gonna be happy when they wake up.”

Billy shook his head. “No. They won’t be.”

The man began to walk towards the mouth and turned around when he didn’t hear any other footsteps following him. He saw that Billy was still standing where he was, not moving an inch. Even though this man had helped him and even though he was willing to do  _ more _ , Billy couldn’t help but feel hesitant. This wasn’t the first time an adult tried to get him to trust them. And he doubted it would be the last. Billy’s awareness was what kept him safe on the streets. He couldn’t count how many times a gang or some drug addicts tried to get him to join them; all because he was a young and “impressionable” child.

He may be a kid, but he wasn’t an idiot.

The man seemed to sense Billy’s reluctance to follow, and he walked back to the raven-haired boy, head down.

“Listen,” he began. “I know that there’s no reason for you to trust me. If anything, you definitely shouldn’t. That would be the smart thing to do. But I promise you, that I mean no harm. All that happened was I saw a young kid in need of my help and I helped him. And now I see that he needs it again.” Billy eyed him warily. Where was he going with this?

“Now, it’s all up to you. I don’t know what your situation is, you don’t have to tell me, but I do know that I want to help in any way that I can. And if that means getting you bandaged up?” Billy’s stomach growled. “Or maybe getting you a meal?” he smiled. “Then I’m okay with that. But please, let me help you out today. Just today. And if you don’t want to see me again afterward, then that’s fine too.”

Billy rubbed his arm. It would be nice to have a little help for a change, even if it was just for today.

“Okay,” he said. “But no social workers, no doctors, and no charity!”

The man smiled and raised his hands in surrender. “That’s fine by me. Now let’s get out of here.” He began walking to the entrance again, and this time Billy followed him.

“Say, what’s your name?”

“I’m Billy.” the man nodded.

“Dick.”

“Excuse me?” Billy said, a frown twisting the edges of his face as he walked alongside the man. A smile split across his face as if he heard a joke.

“My name. It’s Dick. Well, it’s actually Richard, but I don’t like people calling me that. There were a few weird months where people called me ‘Ric’ as a joke but that was stupid and I hated it.”

“Huh, okay. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Dick.” Billy stuck out his good hand for his new friend to shake.

“Nice to meet you too, Billy!” the man chirped like a robin.

Dick went into a small drug store and bought a couple of medical supplies before coming out and hailing down Billy, who had hidden by the side of the store since apparently he was on bad terms with the store owner. It seems that there have been a couple more times than one when Billy had snuck into the store and stolen supplies. And chocolate. But that was irrelevant.

Dick had been gracious enough to not take Billy to a doctor, which the boy was sure he was going to do and took it upon himself to check and wrap up Billy’s injuries for him. While also teaching him how to do it himself in case he ever needed to.

He also taught Billy how to self-check for cracked or broken ribs. And while it was a useful skill, it made Billy wonder as to why a random, normal guy just knows that.

“I’m a police officer. And I also do a lot of parkour and gymnastics and stuff, and sometimes I don’t have the money to go see a doctor when I can figure out myself what’s wrong with me. So, I know these things.” he answered when Billy asked.

After Dick had helped Billy with that, he insisted on buying him something to eat. And that didn’t mean a granola bar or a can of cold soup.

No.

That meant buying four different entrees, three appetizers, and a milkshake and soda from the local diner and watching in horrified fascination as a little ten-year-old boy inhaled all of it.  _ Every last bite. _

Dick just ordered some fries and shake. But he didn’t feel very hungry after watching Billy eat all of that food.

“Aren’t you going to eat your food?” Billy had asked him at one point.

“No, I think I’m good,” he responded. The boy made a face but shrugged it away. After he was all finished and once the bill was paid, they both decided to just chill there at the diner and wait for nothing. The sun had long passed its peak and was now making its final descent for the day when they began talking.

Billy learned that Dick was an officer in the Bludhaven police force and that he was just passing through the city on his way to his original home in Gotham. He also learned that he had three brothers and three sisters and that he loved all of them dearly, even though they could be pretty ridiculous and sketchy at times. He learned that Dick used to live in the circus before he moved to Gotham and Billy loved listening to some of the stories that he told of his time there. He learned that his favorite food was chips and cereal, and he learned that he loved to read Robin Hood comic books. He learned that one of his brothers never slept and drank coffee constantly and he learned that another would rather die than tell you that he loved you. And that another would spend weeks away from home and nobody would know if he was dead or alive but then show up out of nowhere with an injury or roll through the house in heelies, drunk. And occasionally at the same time. It depended on his mood.

But Billy learned that Dick had a family and that he loved them and told every story he had of them. It was nice listening.

So when it was Billy’s turn... he had nothing. He ducked his head in embarrassment and slipped his hands underneath his legs so that he wouldn’t fidget with them.

“I- um, there’s not that much to know about me,” he said. “I just live on my own, and I get by. I don’t have money for toys or stuff like that, but I get by with what I have. I don’t have any brothers but I had a sister. I don’t know where she is anymore though.” Billy bit his lip before his head shot up, a twinkle in his eye.

“I really like tigers!’ he exclaimed. “Sometimes when I have enough, I would go down to the zoo and look at their exhibit!” Dick smiled at the boy’s enthusiasm, but there was a sadness in his blue eyes that Billy did not notice. “Most of the time they won’t come out, because of all the loud crowds, but I know that they like me. There’s this one tiger there, he’s my favorite, I call him Tawky Tawny.”

“Tawky Tawny?” Dick asked.

“Yeah! He always comes by. Always. He’s the closest thing I have to family, around here, and sometimes I’d get a burger for him with no pickles. He doesn’t like pickles.”

The officer smiled. “How do you get the burger to him?”

“I have my ways,” Billy said with a smug smile. He glanced out the diner window and saw that the sky was beginning to darken. He would have to be going home soon, he had run quite a ways away when the bullies chased him. Billy turned to Dick, “I’m sorry, but I think I have to go.”

The man looked at him confused. “Really? Already?”

Billy nodded. “Yeah, I should be heading back.” the boy began to pack up his leftovers. No way he was going to leave those behind. “Thank you, Dick, for the food and for helping me earlier. I really appreciate it.” He grabbed his leftovers and got out of their booth. Dick got up, holding the bag with the medical supplies.

“Wow, wait, shouldn’t I come along or something? I wanna make sure you get home safe.” He said, concern evident in his voice. Billy gave a weak smile.

“No, it’s okay, I think I’ll be just fine. But thank you so much for everything. I mean that. It’s been a while.”

Dick looked down. “Well, okay.” He offered the drugstore bags. “Here, you probably need these more than I do.”

Billy smiled. “Thank you,” he said as Dick put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “And if you ever need anything else, I’m pretty sure you can find a payphone or something around here and call me. I’m always here if you need anything.”

“Of course.”

“Take care, Billy.”

Billy waved as he exited the diner, “So long Dick!” he called out behind him. And he had the great moment of seeing the look on the waitress’s face as he said that, and he couldn’t help but laugh. He had to admit, it was pretty funny.

  
  
  


It took Billy a while before he got home, and when he got there, he saw the bare yellowed mattress, the broken lock on his door, and the empty cupboard. Well, not so empty now that he had some food and supplies.

He groaned as he looked over at his bed. He had forgotten about getting a new blanket or even earning money for the blanket. His day had been way too wild and busy for him to remember. He glanced at the glitchy alarm clock on the windowsill.

12:07 am it read. But that clock was two hours ahead. So it was actually 10:07. He had walked for two hours and the raven was exhausted. Thankfully it had been a quiet night in Fawcett, and the Champion doubted that there would be any crimes committed tonight.

So he changed out of his normal red sweater into an even bigger red sweater and plopped down onto his bed, arms sprawled and not a care in the world; all he wanted to do was sleep.

And so, the blue-eyed boy slipped into the realm of dreams, blissfully unaware of the vigilante across the street on the rooftop, observing disapprovingly of the boy’s living conditions.

Dick wondered what he should do. He knew he had to do something about it, no kid should have to live like this, but he didn’t know exactly what to do. He could always call someone, but Billy didn’t want anything to do with social workers. He had made that very clear.

He could always leave a wad of cash, but again, Billy said that he didn’t want any charity. So what could he do to help? He certainly wasn’t going to leave it alone, that’s for sure,

Dick struggled to try to find a solution that didn’t break Billy’s trust and would not make him feel like a failure as a big brother. And yes, even though they had only known each other for a day, Dick already felt like a big brother to the little guy. Maybe it was how similar they looked with the blue eyes and black hair or maybe it was the fact that Billy didn’t have all that much in the “Family” department, but one thing was for sure…

Dick had  _ four  _ brothers now. And nothing was going to stop him from being there for him.

So with his mind made up, Dick left. Off in search of the nearest 24/7 convenience store and to break into the local zoo.

The sun’s golden rays peeked through the cracked windows in Billy’s room, trying to greet him for the morning and let him know that it was time to wake. The boy groaned at the invading light and rolled over, not wanting to get up. But eventually, he did.

“Ugh,” he croaked out. The boy stiffly got up and changed out of his sweater, careful as to not twist or hurt his shoulder.

After getting ready and eating some breakfast, Billy went downstairs and walked into the fresh morning breeze. Today was a new day and this time he was going to find a job.

He set out across town, asking any shop owner if they had any work for him to do. Whether it was sweeping the sidewalk, running an errand, or even watching the store while they had a smoking break. They all said no.

Dejected and disappointed in his luck, Billy came across the same diner that he and Dick visited yesterday. Thinking ‘Why not?’ he walked through its doors, greeted by the wonderful smell of food and warmth.

“Oh, hey!” One of the waitress’s called. Billy whipped his head towards her, wondering if he did something wrong and should leave. “Kid! Come here. You were in here yesterday weren’t you?”

Billy nodded, a little hesitant. “Your friend said that you might come by later. He didn’t say when exactly, but he put down a suspended-meal for you.”

The boy’s blue eyes flashed with confusion. “A what?”

“A suspended-meal,” she said kindly. “It’s a thing we do here where someone can put down money for a meal or a coffee and somebody else can come and claim it. He put one down specifically for you. And he also said that next time you come here, to give you this!” The waitress ducked beneath the counter and pulled up a bright red bundle. Billy’s eyes widened in shock.

He gazed at the blanket in confusion and awe before noticing a new, clean stuffed tiger, sitting on top of the bundle. The boy’s mouth hung open in shock as he picked up the toy. Its fur was the softest he’d ever felt, and it looked so bright and spotless, it even had a small red collar. And when Billy held it close, it smelled of creamsicle orange.

And for the first time in a long time, Billy smiled. Truly smiled. The boy had almost forgotten how it felt. But he couldn’t help it.

Although, he had to wonder, where did they come from?

The raven’s face scrunched together as he began to wonder who the gifts could’ve possibly come from, but he couldn’t think of anyone. Then his mind wandered to Dick; could he have possibly done this?

It was at this moment Billy notices the white note sitting on top of the blanket, right next to the tiger. He picked it up, a little hesitant as to what it said, and slowly opened it. A grin crept onto the boy’s face as he read the note, now knowing full well who to thank for the new blanket and tiger.

_ Now I’m done giving you my help. _

_ -Dick _

Billy hugged the tiger close, breathing in its scent and grinning like a fool. He glanced up at the waitress, who also had a smile on her face, and spoke. “I think I’ll have that meal now.”


	2. Late nights, early mornings and falafel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy takes out a demonic sorceress that escaped from Tartarus, get hurt, passes out and meets yet another Bat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey demons, it's me, ya boi here with another edited and slightly re-written chapter

There were quite a few things that bothered Tim and got on his nerves. Sweaty smelling suits, bad coffee (although he still drank it), interrupting, people invading his bubble, getting blamed for something he didn’t do, grapple lines getting tangled in midair, ads popping up on his computer while he was working on a case, slow walkers, Jason replacing his toothpaste with hair gel, being ignored, etc. The list goes on. But one of Tim’s biggest pet peeves was villain sorcerers.

Red Robin was thrown into a brick wall, chipping some of the bricks, and significantly bruising the vigilante’s back. The teen proceeded to get up with a groan and reached out to grab his staff, but it was kicked out of reach by the villain. She was fucking irritating. The sorcerer was new, they hadn’t encountered her before and she knew it. She was smug, believing that she was probably more powerful than the majority of the League and wasn’t afraid to show it.

She wore a long, black cloak-like jacket that had hundreds of little charms dangling off of chains. She actually could’ve passed as a normal human if it weren’t for the black skin with glowing star-like freckles, white hair that defied gravity and seemed to twist and flow even in the absence of wind, long silver claw-like nails, and vibrant purple eyes. Yeah, a normal human.

She giggled as she saw the hero crumpled before her. “Awww, is little birdie too exhausted to play? What a shame, I was having  _ fun _ .” she purred, blasting Red Robin with a shockwave of pain. He doubled over and gagged, unable to draw in any air to his lung. As soon as his head cleared and he could breathe, Tim wished for a miracle to happen so they could all go home unscathed and alive.

The rest of the Bats had been either knocked out or were too injured to continue. Since none of them had any magical ability or any protections against magic, it was embarrassing to say that the sorceress had taken them all by surprise. One of the cons of being an entirely human team. 

Tim looked at Jason a couple of feet away, his helmet cracked and a gun resting listlessly in his hands, bullets still inside of it. He looked at Damian, wrapped up in a cage of metal and muzzled with a metal plate, his cape was torn and his mask scorched. He looked at Cass, unconscious on the ground with cuts littering her body. And finally, he looked at Bruce, standing in the corner gripping his dislocated shoulder and speaking into the League comm. They were gonna need some help here. Tim groaned, realizing that this probably wasn’t going to end well for anyone.

The witch turned around, having finished dealing with Red Robin, and once she saw Batman talking into the comm, her eyes narrowed and an exasperated smile graced her lips. “Well hey, we can’t have any of that now can we?” Violet ribbons of light began dancing around her fingertips as she began to focus on the Dark Knight. Claws gleaming, bloodlust in her eyes, and power sparking all over her. Tim yelled out to Bruce. He yelled for him to move, to run. To just _ do  _ something _ ,  _ do _ anything.  _ But the Bat of Gotham stood tall where he was. The sorceress descended upon Bruce, murderous intent gleaming in her eyes. She began to chant, words that sounded more like screams than actual words making their way from her lips until a blinding white light burned away the darkness. 

Tim shielded his eyes from the light but once it dimmed, he cracked them open to see a familiar hero standing in front of Batman. One that wore a red suit, white and gold cape, and was known better as Captain Marvel. His eyes glowing a brilliant blue-white to rival the sorceress’s sickly purple. She had landed with a painful smack on the cement floor, when she got up, Tim saw that blood ran down her face.

She snarled at the sight of the Champion of Magic and Protector of the Mortal Realm. His face was an impassive facade of stony determination, which didn’t fit his person at all and scared Tim if he was being honest, and lightning flickered in his hands. The Captain launched himself at the villain, swiftly sending a punch into her gut.

“This isn’t your realm!” He shouted at her as she tried to regain her breath. “Go back to where you belong!” “No!” she screeched at him as she used her claws to try and strike the hero, but Marvel kept flying out of her reach. She managed to scratch his face, just below his eye, and yet the demigod refused to be deterred by it. She continued using her talons, trying to find some way to injure the Champion. However, Marvel kept dodging her strikes and sending his own. Making the witch growl in frustration when he sped away behind her. Having enough she struck out with her magic emitting a wave of purple light and disorienting the Captain. She took her chance and before Marvel could do anything to stop her, she dug her claws into his stomach. Marvel stared in surprise.

He glanced down in shock and the witch smirked in triumph. She had struck a blow against the strongest sorcerer in the realm and she loved it. She twisted her hand, causing an excruciating sensation to run up his spine. But the demonic sorceress was stunned when the Champion looked up at her, eyes glowing bright and a snarl on his face. She stared dumbfounded as he gripped her arm and threw her over his shoulder and onto the asphalt. Before she could react, struck her with the living lightning that gathered around from his hands and lived in his eyes.  **_ "Egó, o Captain Marvel, Champion of Magic kai Protector of the Mortal Realm apagorévo aftó to plásma sti sfaíra apó ópou írthe. Apó to Rock of Eternity as to kánoume!" _ ** he intoned, a swirling dark hole bursting from his palms, consuming the light around them. A hundred voices seemed to speak with Marvel, the reverb affecting the sorceress, blood leaking from her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth  **_ "Afíste to na gínei!" _ ** he intoned, the swirling mass of tentacles and darkness consuming the sorceress.

Once the portal had closed, Marvel fell to his knees, the light fading from his eyes, and the reek of ozone leaving the air. Legs shaking, Captain Marvel stood and pressed his palms against his abdomen, light bubbling out from in between his fingers. He dismissed batman when he went over there to investigate. "I will heal soon," he intoned in the hundred-voices voice "That creature was not of this world. Somehow she escaped from Tartarus and made her way here." with those final words, the demigod turned and departed in another burst of light. 

Tim stood up shakily, leaning on his bo staff. "Hey B, what  _ in the fuck _ just happened? Shouldn't we be following him?" Bruce shook his head. “No. If he wanted help he would have asked.” Bruce leaned against the wall, setting his shoulder with a sickening snap. He picked up Damian who was curled up on the ground, unconscious from blood loss and insufficient airflow from the muzzle. “Go help Jason and Cass. We’ll discuss this later.” Tim glanced back in the direction Cap had gone, worried tumbling in his gut, but he suppressed it and shuffled over to Jason. He’ll have to worry about the Cap later.

The next two days were full of aching muscles and replacing bandages. Tim was the only one who wasn’t hurt too badly by the sorceress, which of course meant that he was the only one who could go on patrol.  _ It was just fuckin peachy, not like he already worked longer than all of the others. It's not like he had shit to do or a life to live. _

So here Tim was in the middle of the city at midnight hunched over on a rooftop waiting for the cold wind to subside. But it didn’t, seeing as how Tim groaned as the wind grew stronger. If only he could wear sweaters on patrol. Maybe he could order a bunch of sweatshirts designed after their suits, that way they could wear them when it was cold out and still be in ‘uniform’ in a sense. Tim scoffed. As if Bruce would wear a Batman-themed sweater.

He hopped off the roof and rolled onto the next one, taking off at a nicely paced jog, and jumping over obstacles when necessary. His cape flapped behind him and his hair kept falling into his eyes, which meant he was brushing it out of his face every three seconds. Sometimes having long hair was annoying. Red Robin had just leaped onto a fire escape when he heard it. Whimpers and soft sobs.

If he hadn’t been trained by Batman, Tim doubted he would have normally heard it. The vigilante crouched down on the cold metal and listened. He concentrated on the sounds and tried to find where it was coming from. He dropped onto the pavement below. A back alley behind a soup kitchen, and listened carefully for the source. Tim heard a moan of pain and his head whipped around. It was coming from behind a dumpster and some trash bags. Without hesitating, he hurried over and moved the trash out of the way to find... A kid.

Tim looked at the child and felt his heart clench. He couldn’t have been older than ten years old. And here he was sleeping on top of the trash, in a ratty red sweater that Tim doubted offered any warmth, and moaning in pain. Even asleep, the kid was clutching his stomach and crying, soft sobs permeating the silence. Tim glanced around, trying to see if there was anyone around here, but upon seeing no one, he turned back to the kid. Red knew that he wasn’t safe here, this was Gotham of all places. No kid would be safe here on his own. Making up his mind, Tim tried to shake the boy awake, but the kid didn’t wake up. Not even an eyelid flutter or a hitched breath. He continued to softly sob in pain and curl in on himself. It was like Tim wasn’t here at all. Red looked at the alley again. He was starting to feel vulnerable here. If a gang or some criminals came upon Red Robin alone in an alley with no positional advantages next to a defenseless kid, it’d be like Christmas to them. He couldn’t stay here and

neither could the kid. 

Sighing in advance for his sore arms, Tim bent down and picked up the kid, eyes widening in shock as he found out that he was practically skin and bones and weighed next to nothing. He also noticed how the kid had a cut right below his eye, a nasty one too. That must’ve hurt. The teen grabbed his grapple gun and together, he and the kid shot upwards to a roof. Safe from the dangers below.

Tim set him down on the roof. But the child didn’t react at all to the new scenery. He still shivered and still groaned and still clenched his midriff. Red Robin sighed in disappointment. Then all of a sudden a strong gust of wind flew by, causing Tim to wrap his cloak around him. But then he looked at the kid.

_ I’m going to end up regretting this  _ Tim thought, slipping off his cape and wrapping it around the kid, treating it like a blanket. He made sure it was snug and fully wrapped around him. It only took a minute for him to notice the drastic change in the boy. Once he was covered up and got warm enough, he stopped shivering and relaxed. Tim let out a small breath of relief and sat down next to the kid. If he couldn’t have his cape he could at least use the kid as a wind block. And yeah that was probably mean and thoughtless, but hey, it was  _ cold _ . He glanced at the boy again and wondered about what he should do. He couldn’t bring him back to the Cave. But the Cave was only for emergencies and superheroes and this definitely wasn’t an emergency. Or a superhero.

Another option was to drop him off at the nearest hospital. That would be the smart thing to do. But from the looks of it, this kid was homeless and didn’t have anywhere to go. And if he was homeless then there had to be a good reason as to why a  _ ten-year-old _ was out here. Maybe he ran away from abusive parents. Maybe he was abandoned. Those were the most likely situations. And if those were the answers, then he probably wouldn’t want to be found by those who hurt him. So then the last option would be Tim waiting until he woke up. Well, at least he’ll be resting for the time being.

So Tim settled down and waited for the mysterious raven-haired boy to wake up. Maybe a nap would be nice? That sounded very appealing

to the vigilante at the moment. So with a final look at the kid, the teen rested his head against the stone and closed his eyes.

It took way longer than he would have expected, for when he did wake up, it was nearing 4 am. The kid had long stopped whimpering and shivering, thanks to the makeshift blanket, and had begun to wake up. 

Billy cracked open his soft blue eyes and looked around blearily. He rubbed away the crusty sand from his eyes, making a mental note to thank the Hypnos for the sleep, and studied where he was. Billy smacked his lips, wrinkling his nose at the taste of dry mouth, and noticed that he was not where he had passed out. The fight with the she-beast had really done a number on Billy. The strike he endured to his stomach had not been good to put it lightly. And if it wasn’t for the Wisdom of Solomon telling him to sleep, Billy figured that he’d be dead by now. The injury had done more magically than it did physically, it had drained most of the demigod's magic and energy, causing him to hibernate to regain it again. The blast of lightning he had used on the witch was the last that he had left, and once she was expelled back to her dark realm, Cap had to get out of there fast and begin his hibernation before he passed out.

Billy had barely said the magic word in time before he fainted on top of garbage bags, falling into a fitful sleep. And now that he was awake, he could only assume that he had enough energy and magic to join the land of the living again. _ That was a close one _ Billy thought as he rubbed his eyes. Letting out a big yawn, the young magic-user slipped underneath the warm blanket once more. Billy’s eyebrows drew together in confusion.

He was far away from Fawcett at the moment, so he highly doubted that he had his red blanket on him, and he was pretty sure that he was still outside if the dew in his hair was anything to go by. The boy opened his eyes again and was pleasantly surprised to find a big blanket on top of him. But it was unlike any blanket he had ever seen before. For one, it wasn’t like normal blanket material, it was too rubbery and stiff for that. And another thing, it had these weird feather designs on it. Billy continued to look at the blanket curiously when all of a sudden he heard a snore next to him.

He jolted and spun his head around. Stunned to find that there was a teenager next to him, one who was wearing a strangely familiar suit and a red mask. “Holey Moley,” he whispered so he didn’t wake up Red Robin. Billy looked at his ‘blanket’ again and realized that it wasn’t that, but it was in fact the cape that Red wore with his suit. Then the realization suddenly hit Billy. Red Robin had found him.

_ Red Robin had found him. _

_ Red Robin had taken him somewhere safe. _

_ Red Robin had given him his cape. _

_ And Red Robin was snoring and drooling right next to him. _

Billy gulped and covered his mouth, trying to stifle a giggle as he watched the infamous vigilante drool in his sleep. Billy knew that the Red Robin was known for being tired all the time, but he just didn’t think that he’d see it in person. Not wanting to wake him up, Billy started to stand, pulling the cloak off of him and leaving it beside Red so that when he did wake up, he would find it still there. The raven let out a breath, thinking that he successfully arose from the ground without waking up one of the vigilantes of Gotham, but he should’ve known. This was one of the Bats.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Red Robin said behind Billy. The boy froze and turned around slowly, seeing that the teen was standing up, already pulling the cloak back onto his suit. “It’s good to see that you’re awake by the way. I was worried.” the teen let out a big yawn and shook his head, trying to get rid of the clouds in his mind that came with sleep. “Uhmm,” Billy began, “I was just going to leave Mr. Red Robin. I didn’t want to bother you.” Red shook his head and yawned again. “Nuh-uh. I’m not gonna find a kid injured and whimpering in the middle of the night, make sure that he’s safe, and wait for him to wake up, only to have him skip out on me.” He shook his head again. Billy figured that he must’ve been really tired last night.

“No. I’m not doing that,” Billy said in his defense. “Well then what are you doing?” Billy shrugged and looked down. “I don’t know. I just didn’t want to bother you. You seemed fine enough, I just thought I’d leave you alone.” Red was silent for a moment before he exhaled. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You wanna get something to eat?” he asked all of a sudden. Billy looked up in surprise. “What?” The teen gestured vaguely, “Well, I’m hungry. I’m guessing you’re hungry. Wanna get something to eat? I know this great falafel stand.”

Billy gazed at the hero confused. He was definitely the strangest teen hero he had ever met. It had been a while since he last ate if he was to go by how much his stomach hurt. Although that was probably just the last of his injuries healing. Either way, he could eat.

“Uhm, sure?” He said. Red nodded. “Great. Let’s go.”

Eating falafel with a member of the Batfamily at four in the morning was certainly a new experience for Billy. One that he knew he wouldn’t forget for a long time. Because not only did Red Robin have a wallet on him and pay for the boy’s meal, but he was also a regular at the stand. Apparently, late-night falafel runs were a thing for the Bats of Gotham. Also coffee runs. Because the Starbucks across the street knew Red too and already had his cup on standby when he walked in through the doors.

This was a whole new level of superhero for Billy. Maybe he could do the same thing as Marvel? It would be nice to have a cup of coffee when he was really tired after patrol. But in order to do that, Cap would have to have money, and therefore Billy would have to have money. At least it was a nice thought. The Champion munched on his falafel and pita bread happily, thankful that he was getting food in his stomach. This was the second time in the last couple of weeks where somebody had bought him food. The Lady Tyche* must’ve blessed him or something.

Red came back to their table, chugging down the coffee he ordered, and sat down with a thump. “So,” Red began, “What happened to you? I don’t usually come across a lot of injured kids shivering next to a dumpster.” Billy’s breath hitched. What should he say? He couldn’t tell Red the truth. But it was a good thing that half-truths were his forte. “I got hurt, so I ran away. I couldn’t be in that place anymore,” he answered vaguely. “What place? Your home?” “Sure, let’s go with that.” Red Robin narrowed his eyes behind the mask and took a sip of coffee. He knew that the kid was lying, it was obvious, but he’ll let it go for now. If the kid didn’t want to tell him, then he didn’t have to tell him. But on another note…

“What’s your name?” The kid swallowed his falafel. “I’m Billy,” he said as he stuck out his hand for Red to shake. Tim did him the honors and shook it. “No last name?” Red inquired. Billy smirked. “No, I do have a last name. I’m just not gonna say it.” Tim’s eyebrows went up. Man, this kid did  _ not  _ trust people. He wondered what could’ve happened in his life that would make him act this way. He kind of reminded Tim of Jason in a sense. Sure he was nicer than the Hood, but the hostility and wariness still lingered in the undertone. It was the kind of thing only a street kid could develop.

“All right, then. Keep your secrets” Red smirked. Billy stifled a giggle behind his hand "Did you just quote a  _ meme _ ?" Red nodded, stifling his own laughter. “Well then Billy, do you have anywhere to go? I kinda don’t want to leave you all by yourself.” Billy finished the last of his meal and looked up at the vigilante. “I’ll be fine. I’m just gonna go home after this.” 

“But I thought you said you didn’t want to be home?” 

“No, I said ‘place.” 

“So you didn’t mean your home?” 

“Nope.” 

“But then where’s the place?” 

“I’m not saying.”

“Well, why not?”

“Because it’s just a place.”

“So then where’s home? I’m happy to walk you there.”

“Nah, it’ll be fine.”

“You sure? Gotham’s pretty dangerous.”

“Well, so am I.” Billy retorted faster than a whip before his eyes widened in shock at what he just said. He covered his mouth and looked down, suddenly finding the table very interesting. Red leaned forward on the table. “What?” he said. “N-nothing,” Billy mumbled quickly. The raven gathered up his garbage and quickly walked over to the trash can, leaving Red Robin behind.

Billy was appalled by what he had said. He was usually so careful! The boy shook his head; it had to be the hibernation. Yeah, that was it! He was just so tired and out of it that his guards went down and he slipped up! Plus it was Red Robin, a fellow hero! That sounded right? Didn’t it? But that was all Billy said as he turned around. “Thanks for the help. And thanks for the falafel.” A sudden wave of deja vu washed over the boy. This was just like what had happened with Dick.

Red was looking at the boy curiously, wondering about what he meant by “So am I”. Could this kid be a metahuman? It would make sense. Homeless metas' weren’t unheard of. But before Tim got a chance to ask, Billy slipped out of the Starbucks and ran into the twilight morning. Leaving behind an intrigued Bat and an empty seat. And as Tim thought about this strange night, a question suddenly surfaced in his mind.  _ When did the cut below his eye heal? _


	3. Maskless but not hopeless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay meets Billy (Or more accurately, Billy finds the Red Hood passed out in a garbage heap)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late upload, I had a ton of school work that needed to be done and then PG&E keeps shutting off the power, anyhow, enjoy!

To say that Jason was having a bad week would be a complete and utter understatement. First, it was a failed drug bust, that resulted in him getting knocked unconscious, then getting his wallet stolen while he was out, then he got stabbed, and punched, and kicked, and his ankle sprained, and then he fell four stories, landed in a garbage truck, and now he was being thrown onto the side of the road in some God-forsaken city he didn’t even recognize. Oh yeah, definitely a good week. 

Jason groaned as he tried to pull himself off the ground. Duly noting that the ground was slick with water and the sound of rhythmic pattering filled his ears. To the once-dead man, the rain was all just white noise to him. 

The cold seeped into his bones and sent a chill through his blood, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been so miserable. Oh, wait. He could. 

But that wasn’t the point. The point was that Jason Todd was tired and cold and hurting and he had no idea where he was, with stab wounds and broken bones littered across his body. The Hood flipped himself onto his back, flinching as the wind and rain whipped his face with a rash gust and let out a breath of exertion. His red helmet was long gone, probably still somewhere in that garbage truck, his mask, and leather jacket torn to shreds. It was a miracle the articles of clothing remained somewhat intact after all of this time. 

But what got to Jason, was the fact that he was alone, in an abandoned alley, of an unknown city, with no cash to get him back home, and no way to contact help. 

It was all a big fucking mess. 

The vigilante let out a sigh of defeat. ‘What now?’ he thought to himself. But nothing came to mind.  _ I’ll stay here till I think of something.  _ So Jason laid there on the cold wet ground, listening to the purr of the rain, and the cars that drove past him. Wallowing in his pain and regretting every decision he had made that led him to this moment. Man, he really would like to shoot something right now. 

His mind began to drift off, lured by the sweet relief of sleep, and his body relaxed. The tight muscles loosened, his head rolled to the side, filled with cotton, and a nice warmth suddenly enveloped him.

This wasn’t death. Because Jason knew what death felt like. No, this was the cousin of death, it was that deep and endless sleep one would drift off to when their body was in pain when the physical world was too much for them and they needed to rest. It was a soulful sleep, and Jason welcomed it. 

The Red Hood had already drifted off into that black sea by the time a familiar red-clad hero flew off into the night with him in his arms, a white cape draped across Jason’s sleeping form. 

Jason Todd woke up to the sound of clattering, like dishes in a kitchen. He woke up to a wrinkly, lumpy mattress, and a red blanket was thrown on top of him. He woke up to pale sunlight shining through a window with boards hammered over it and he woke up to a crumbling apartment and an empty room. He woke up to the feeling of bandages over his stab wound and sprained ankle. He woke up to a giant sweatshirt replacing his vigilante armor and nothing covering his face. And he woke up to a kid, no older than ten, offering him a plate of cold breakfast food. 

Jason stared at the boy. Not fully knowing what to do, before bolting upright on the bed, suddenly gasping in pain. The kid’s eyes widened and he set down the food and rushed over.

“Woah there mister!” he exclaimed. “You don’t have any stitches in for that! So please, don’t move.” Jason gripped his side, the one where he was stabbed, and glanced down. As the kid had said, there were no stitches, just some gauze, and medical tape. 

“I know it’s not the best,” he said. “But it was all I had. I hope it’s enough.” The boy sat there, his hands up and at the ready in case Jason did anything. The man glanced at the raven again and his eyebrows drew in confusion. 

“Who the hell are you?” he blurted out. His voice sounding like a toad who had been cooked in a microwave. “Where am I?”

The boy dropped his hands, gave Jason an incredulous look, and shook his head standing up. It was as if he couldn’t believe the question he was just asked. The boy walked over to the table and grabbed the plates of food again. He shuffled over to Jason and sat down on the mattress next to the Hood, handing a plate to the man. 

It was scrambled eggs, bacon, and a granola bar.

“Really? Somebody saves your life and you don’t even offer a ‘Thank you’?” he scoffs. “Honestly mister, I would’ve expected something nicer. But then again, maybe I should’ve expected that from someone from Gotham. And you’re in my apartment by the way. In Fawcett.”

Jason stiffened. “How did you know I was from Gotham?” The kid pointed to a corner of the room, and Jason followed his finger to find his Red Hood gear sitting on top of a decaying chair, looking at him innocently. As if it wasn’t some kind of damning evidence that would surely send this kid to the press, telling them all about how the Red Hood’s secret identity was the “dead” Wayne boy, leading them to connect the dots that Bruce was Batman, Dick was Nightwing, Damian was Robin, Tim was Red Robin, and everyone else in their family being exposed. All because of one bad week. 

The vigilante gulped and his eyes shifted to the boy, who was just looking at him funny. 

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not saying anything. The last thing I need is attention anyway. I don’t want to draw social workers and foster parents here.” Jason’s eyes widened at the boy’s statement. 

“Now hurry up and eat your breakfast. I’m not gonna go back to the diner again and order another one.” The raven-haired kid said before digging into his food. Jason glanced around the apartment, noticing just how bad it looked. It was obvious that the kid lived on his own, or on the streets, and it was even more obvious that he had been in the foster system. Maybe he was one of those few who simply slipped through the cracks of the system. 

The man glanced down at his food, taking note of how good it smelled even when it was cold. The kid handed him a fork, and almost cautiously, he began to eat. It was one of the best non-Alfred-backstreet-diner breakfasts he had ever had. Jason’s stomach grumbled loudly, and suddenly pain flared inside of it. He gripped his stomach in pain and groaned. How long had it been since he last ate food? The kid seemed to pick up on this and set down his now empty plate. “Oh, that doesn’t sound good. When was the last time you ate a meal? And I don’t mean snacks like chips or anything. Like an actual sit down meal?” he asked curiously. Jason looked up in thought and tried to think. It was embarrassing how long it took for him to find his answer, "About two weeks.” 

The boy was silent for a moment before sighing. “Well, alright. At least you’re getting food now. Let’s try it again. Maybe now your body will accept it.” The next hour or so compiled of Jason trying to get food into his body without it hurting or him throwing up. It had been a long time since he last ate breakfast as good as this one. But then again, at this point in his life, as long as it was hot and not moldy he was fine with it. When the last of the eggs had disappeared and the final bite of granola was eaten, Jason glanced at the kid and opened his mouth. 

“How long was I out?” he asked. The kid shrugged. 

“About three days. You were really hurt. I was just starting to wonder if I should bring you to the hospital.” Jason scoffed. “Yeah, I’m glad you didn’t. That probably wouldn’t have ended well.” 

“Why not?” 

The older raven waved his hand as if he was swatting away a fly. “That’s complicated.” The boy crossed his arms and sat up straight.

“More complicated than me, a street kid, finding the Red Hood in a back alley with blood dripping off of him and knocked unconscious with no mask?”

Turquoise and cornflower blue eyes met and once again Jason scoffed at the kid, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“Yeah, a little bit.” 

The kid huffed in annoyance before standing up and walking towards the door, pulling on a thin jacket and tugging on some holey shoes. 

“Hey, wait a sec, where are you going?” Jason called. The raven looked back at the man, an annoyed look on his face. 

“Well, I’m going out to get some work, earn some money, and buy more painkillers for you. Since, you know, I ran out giving you the last I few I had.” He opened the door. “Stay here or else.” 

“Hold on a minute kid!” 

The boy turned around, sending the man a Look. “What?” 

“What’s your name? I might as well know the name of my savior after all. And besides, I wanna know.” 

The raven was silent for a moment, and for a split second, Jason thought that the kid wasn’t going to tell him. It wasn’t uncommon among street kids to keep their names to themselves.

The boy closed the door behind him without a word.

The kid came back a few hours later with a small bag in hand and grumbling to himself, head down. He set down the bag harshly and dug around inside of it, pulling out a small white bottle and opening it. Jason could hear the rattling of pills inside of it, and he assumed that the kid had succeeded in his quest to find the money for painkillers. He watched as the little boy shook a few into his hand and pop them into his mouth, dry swallowing them. The vigilante’s eyebrows furrowed as the smaller raven closed the bottle again and then tossing it to Jason. 

The older man caught the bottle purely out of reflex and he looked down at the bottle before his gaze shifted to the kid, who was for some reason holding up his hand to his face.

“What?” the kid said defensively. Jason warily opened the bottle and took out a few for himself. 

“Nothing,” Jason said. “Just wondering why you had to take ibuprofen. And why you’re covering your face.” The older raven put a pill in his mouth and smirked knowingly. 

The kid sent him a light glare, realizing that he had been caught with his actions, and then he lowered his hand. Revealing the long cut that had settled itself along his cheek. That definitely wasn’t there before.

Jason’s smirk disappeared.  _ Fuck.  _ he thought to himself. 

The kid fidgeted with the hem of his sweater for a moment, before suddenly turning away and walking to the cupboard. He pulled out a small granola bar and began munching on it quietly. Jason could tell that he didn’t wanna talk about it. But he did. 

“What happened?” he asked, his voice urgent. The kid sighed and muttered so himself. Something about being a dick? Jason narrowed his eyes. 

“Hey,” he said again. The boy turned around to face him, his blue eyes hard. “What happened?” Jason asked again. 

The kid sighed. And then crossing his arms he glared at Jason. “Well, I got the money to pay for the painkillers. But I lost the rest of it when some stupid group of junkies decided to harass me. Happy?”

No. Jason was not happy. “What?” he said, suddenly feeling infuriated. “That’s fucking bullshit!” 

The kid shrugged. “Yeah, well you wanted to know. And it happens sometimes.” 

Jason shook his head and he began to throw off the red blanket off of him. “Nope, that’s not happening not under my watch.” With a grunt, the Red Hood stood up off of the mattress and the little kid rushed forward when he saw him sway on his feet. 

“Hey! You gotta be careful! I don’t need you hurting yourself more than you already are. You’ll get blood everywhere.” 

Jason waved him aside. “Eh, I’ve been through worse.” He began walking towards the chair with his suit on it and struggled to pull off the red hoodie and put on his long-sleeve black shirt. The entire time, the kid watched him unimpressed. There was one point when Jason had gotten stuck and didn’t move for a good two minutes. 

The kid still did nothing to help. And instead, he tried to stifle the snorts and snickers that Jason still could hear. But after a painstakingly long time, he had gotten his shirt on. Only to realize that it was peppered with small holes and on long gash that went right along with his stab wound. The man groaned. He was going to have to take it off again…

Eh, that could wait. There was something more pressing than taking care of himself. He turned to face the kid and he crossed his arms, trying his best to look tall and confident and authoritative. And yet still, the kid looked at him as if he was the lamest thing in the world. 

“Alright, first things first. I’m teaching you how to fight back against a bunch of shitty junkies.” 

The boy’s smirk disappeared from his face and was replaced with a look of surprise. 

“Wait what?” he said. “No! I don’t need your help.” 

“Yeah, you do! Come on, don’t you want to be taught by  _ the  _ Red Hood on how to fight bad guys and kick their asses?” 

“Uhm no, no I do not. I do just fine on my own.”

“Oh come on. When else are you gonna be able to meet and get fighting lessons from a superhero? Or outlaw, whatever.” 

The boy remained quiet for a moment, and Jason thought that it was because he had finally gotten to him. But really, Billy was thinking about just how ironic of a statement that was. He, a ten-year-old who could turn into a superhero and hang out with other superheroes whenever he wanted, was being offered fighting lessons from another superhero who had no idea that  _ he  _ was a superhero. It was just too hilarious. 

This whole  _ thing  _ was just too hilarious! 

For never did Billy Batson expect to find an injured member of the Batfamily lying in the alleyway, in the cold, just outside of his apartment and have to treat him for a butt-ton of injuries and wounds that he had no idea how to treat, with the limited medical supplies that he had. How hilarious indeed.

Billy scoffed and shook his head. Jason’s looked at the kid confused. Why was he laughing?

“No! I don’t need lessons. I can take care of myself perfectly.” 

“Well, that cut on your face seems to tell a different story.” 

Billy stopped laughing and his lips thinned while the older man shrugged. The air was tense in the moments leading up to his reply.

“Fine.” Billy snapped. “One lesson, but that is it! I don’t want to be dragged down and turned into another Robin.” Jason barked a laugh, having not expected that, but it was cut short due to his side hurting. He clutched his stomach and winced, but the trickle of a chuckle still fell from his lips. 

“Okay,” he said. “Fair enough. No Robin-ing for you then. And trust me I wasn’t even thinking about making you a Robin. As if Batman needs anymore black-haired, blue-eyed kids.” 

Billy scoffed and let the ghost of a smile flit across his face. “Yeah I know, where does he keep getting you guys?”

“I legit think that there’s like a specific orphanage he goes to.” 

Billy giggled and uncrossed his arms, standing upright, and Jason was slightly surprised at how small the kid really was. Sometimes he forgot how tall he was compared to other people, children especially. 

“Well, I guess now would be a good time to tell you, but my name’s Billy.” the kid said as he stuck out a hand for Jason to shake. The older man looked at the hand outstretched to him and smiled. He clasped it with his non-bloodied hand and shook it, noticing the strong grip the kid had.

“Call me Jay.” 

Well, as it turns out, Jason had vastly underestimated Billy’s fighting abilities. 

Because the kid was gutsy. 

He didn’t show any fear when facing off the Red Hood of Gotham, the nightmare of criminals everywhere, and he didn’t waver in his decisions. He was a tough kid! But then again, you had to be when you lived on the streets.

And he also fought dirty, which both offended and impressed Jason at the same time. When Jason would pretend to punch him, he would duck underneath the slow-moving fist and immediately take the opening to hit Jason’s open injury. Of course, he didn’t actually do it, they were just slo-mo fighting, and Jason was only fixing forms and suggesting different techniques, you don’t jump right into sparring with someone, but still the actions and split-second decisions that he made kind of surprised the vigilante. 

So for the last two hours or so, the two raven-haired boys pretended to fight each other, and they only took a break when Jason’s injury started to itch uncomfortably. 

So they sat down at the rattling, rotting table and Jason got to work on removing the bandages and applying new ones. 

Billy had insisted on helping, but Jason refused. He wasn’t going to let a little kid do something that he could clearly do on his own. Plus, seeing a barely healed opened wound was nasty. So he did the bandaging by himself while Billy watched and munched on a small bag of chips. 

The air was silent between them before Billy spoke up. 

“Jay, isn’t your real name is it?” he asked. Jason didn’t look up from his task. 

“No, it’s not. It’s a nickname.” 

“Huh, what’s it short for?” 

Jason scoffed. “Like I’d tell you.” Billy shifted in his seat.

“Well, I mean, we bonded! So don’t I get to know your full name? I’ll tell you my full name if that helps.” 

“Your full name’s William,” Jason said, still not looking up. “ And ‘Billy’ is a nickname for it. Why is it though? I have no clue. But good luck figuring out my full name.” 

Billy huffed and leaned back in his rocky chair. “You’re just like Dick,” he muttered to himself, but Jason still heard him loud and clear. The vigilante immediately stopped what he was doing, and glanced up at Billy, turquoise eyes alert with confusion and curiosity. 

“I’m sorry what?” he said. “I remind you of who now?” 

Billy sighed. “It’s just some mister I met a while ago. He helped me out and gave me the medical supplies. And the blanket and a cool stuffed tiger. His name was ‘Dick’ but it was really short for ‘Richard’, which I thought was kind of weird.” 

Jason’s eyes shifted. It was impossible, right? There’s no way that his Dick was the same one that the kid was talking about. It had to be a coincidence, right? But then again, didn’t Dick go through Fawcett on his way back to Gotham a couple of weeks back? 

Jason rubbed his fingers together, and then turned back to his task of rebandaging his side, his mind going a mile a minute. Maybe it was just another guy named Dick who just so happened to live in Fawcett City and have the same kind of Niceness Powers that his Dick Grayson seemed to have. Maybe that was it! 

Yeah, that was probably it…..unless…

Jason finished up his work quickly and then stood up from the chair, tossing aside the leftover gauze and tape onto the table. Billy’s eyes widened slightly in surprise and he watched confusedly as Jason walked over to the chair and began pulling on the rest of his suit. 

“Wait,” Billy said. “Where are you going? You can’t leave yet, your wounds have barely healed!” 

Jason strapped on one of his gun holsters. “Yeah, well sorry kid, but I need to go check something out. You know...superhero stuff.” 

“Was it something I said?” 

Jason bobbed his head and tugged on his leather jacket, wincing slightly as the medical tape stretched across his skin. “Uh, yeah, kinda. Just an idea that I gotta follow up on.”

The vigilante looked around the room and glanced over everything. He was missing something. Where was it? Billy sighed loudly from his chair and stood up, shuffling over to Jason with his shoulders drooping tiredly. 

“What are you looking for?” he asked, clearly done with dealing with Jason’s shit. 

“My mask. It’s gone.” 

“Yeah,” the kid said, shrugging. “I had to throw it away. It was torn to shreds.” 

“What!? Oh come on kid, are you serious?” 

“Yes! It wouldn’t have helped you keep your identity, and besides it was all bloody and icky. So I just threw it in the trash.” 

“Oh, you gotta be shitting me. That was the only mask I had.” 

“What, the Red Hood is hoodless?” Billy asked with a shit-eating grin. Jason lightly glared at him, before ruffling the little boy’s hair. “Hey!” he exclaimed indignantly. The man chuckled before turning to face the window at the end of the room and walking towards it. 

“Then I guess I’ll have to make do without it.” 

They were covered up with old wooden boards that were soon taken apart or broken off. Jason set down the splintered wood and then sat on the open window sill, one foot in the apartment, and the other one hanging off of the ledge. The outlaw glanced down at the alley below him and shrugged. It wasn’t too far of a drop, about three stories, and he doubted that it would hurt him more than he already was. He turned back to face Billy and Jason placed his hands on his hips. 

“Whelp,” he said. “Guess this is it. Until next time Billy, and hopefully next time I can give you a more proper fighting lesson.” 

“Yeah, and maybe next time you won’t be half-dead on my doorstep with no mask.”

“Eh, no promises.” Billy smiled and shook his head. 

Jason gave one last lopsided smirk, saluted, and then swung his leg over the ledge and jumped down. He landed with a grunt and rolled on the cold pavement, his stab wound jostled by the movement, and he began a light jog down the alley. His breath came out in small wisps, and he felt as if he couldn’t breathe properly. But that was probably just because he was injured. He reached the end of the alley and looked back up at the apartment he had jumped out of. Billy was leaning out of it and watching. He gave the Red Hood a small smile and waved to him. And Jason couldn’t help the grin that grew on his face nor the returning wave. But as he was looking up at the apartment, something came to mind. Brows furrowed, the ebony-haired teen looked down at the ground, and then back up to the window where Billy was sitting. And then Jason thought of a question, that he couldn’t even begin to know how to answer. 

_ How did a small, scrawny kid like Billy carry him up to his apartment? _


End file.
